We started the long trek once more, moving along the land trying to do something.

I kept thinking, trying to find any solution to get back home.

In the library I looked for any book about transportation across worlds or universes finding only jack and shit.

Maybe I’ll find something at the capital.

I checked the bag and found it filled with an assortment of coins, some copper, some iron, and some gold.

Albert is most likely helping us so he could gain more power throughout the country by outing corrupt nobles or just through others’ deaths.

But it doesn’t much matter if helping with his ends would help with our as well; then it’s a classic win-win.

My mind was a mess of thoughts and ideals, so I decided to put some music on to help me think.

"He captured Harper's Ferry with his nineteen men so true.

He frightened old Virginia till she trembled through and through.

They hung him for a traitor, themselves the traitor crew.

His soul is marching on.”

The song felt rather relevant.

We made it to a campsite by nightfall. We were in no real rush to get anywhere, so we set up camp.

I have never been able to get too much sleep, neither here nor back on Earth. Back in my early twenties I used my lack of sleep to get hammered every night and would watch the TV. I remember catching an episode of a show called Cowboy Bebop. It was the English dub somehow. I believe the episode I saw was Ballet of the Fallen Angels. After seeing that episode, I knew I had to watch the whole thing.

After we finished setting up, the mage pulled out the same pot, but it was smaller this time.

While Celeste was cooking with the help of the kid, I told Miyamoto we needed to discuss something in private.

I showed him the masks and the map good old Albert had given to us.

Unrolling the map revealed a detailed map of the country with Xs and Os crossed out throughout the kingdom.

A key stood in the bottom right-hand corner.

The Xs had two different colors, red and blue: the red were slave markets, and the blue were corrupt nobles.

The Os were green; they represent safe places or self-houses to take the slaves after breaking them out.

The three masks were based on Oni (Japanese folklore demons), as I brought up before.

Albert, I see, has a sense of humor.

These mixes of European medieval and Japanese are always rather odd. I guess being transported from my world to this one is an event that has happened before.

Miyamoto said there were two different spells on the masks: the first makes the mask unbreakable, and the second makes the user unrecognizable. It must have been the aura I saw around it back when Albert gifted it these to us. And a course perfect for what we were doing.

Looking over the map, I saw one of the red Xs was close to our campsite, only a few miles away.

I told the mage and the kid we would be gone for a bit and should be back by the dead of night.

Celeste asked why.

“I am the Devil and have to do the Devil’s work.”

“Sure, whatever; just don’t be too loud. When you get back, you may not like sleep, but I do.”

“Keep the kid and yourself.”

I also told the kid to stay here and not to follow us.

She nodded.

Our feet hit the ground while the sun started to hide behind the land, hiding from our crimes.

We arrived at the slums that were next to the markets at the astronomical hour of night. Right before the break of twilight.

Both of us put on our masks and got ready.

I told Miyamoto,

“We are here to free the enslaved, and if anyone is to attack us, we are to kill them.”

“Before we do this, there’s something I need to know. Why are you so hell-bent against destroying this?”

“Where I’m from, there was a man named John Brown. He fought against a slave country and fell in the battle against it. He is one of the few men I have ever respected, so I made a promise to myself to fight for the freedom of those in bonds.”

Miyamoto readied his katana.

“You’re a very strange king of hell, you know that?”

“I always believed that the Devil punished evil, true evil.

The king of hell seemed to be the type who fought for one's freedom.

The Devil was an angel once.

He turned on God and fought for something he held dear.”

We were at the doors of this place, this pit of rot.

I took my pistol out of the hostel.

“Well… let’s start this shitshow.”

The two of us kicked down the door.

“We are the Devil and Here to Do the DEVIL’S WORK!”

Everyone looked at the two strange men who had just kicked down the door and had a good laugh.

There was this old fat white guy who was wearing this bowler hat, grey suit jacket, and suit pants. There was a young girl next to him with this chain around her neck keeping her next to him.

He was one of these people who laughed.

The sound of my soles hitting the ground bounced across the hush room.

Everyone had their eyes upon me.

So I walked right in front of this fat bastard, creating a shadow over him.

“My good man, you must want a coin for the entertainment you have given me, so here.”

He rummaged through his suit jacket's pocket and showed me a copper coin.

I grabbed the coin and forced it down his mouth, then I brought him to a wall, made sure everyone was looking, and bashed his fucking skull against the wall until it was painted with a deep shade of red.

I looked at the blood that now covered my hands and felt nothing.

Whether it was the rage that I felt inside that cursed out my symptom or I had finally given up on man, there was nothing within me that felt poor at killing this man.

“Listen up, MOTHERFUCKERS!

I would kill all of you slavers.

But we’re here to free the enslaved, and I swear to whatever made-up god you believe in—if you get in my way, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.

For this is the fire, and I will use your blood as the water to flood the rest of the sinners.

That prey upon the bound will feel the bondage of death.”

The crowd of people was now horrified.

Miyamoto took a glance at me, and for that second I could see him looking at

The Devil.

“Empty your bloody pockets.

Devil Two, free the slaves.”

I forgot to tell Miyamoto that we were going to rob the people, too, because when we get down to it, this is about economics.

We can put the fear of death in these people, but nothing will be done. John Brown tried to end slavery with that of blood, but as much as it pains me to say it, slavery was never going to be beaten that way.

Economic ruin is what I’m after.

Slavery was always an economic problem.

However heartless that may seem.

So by stealing, we can strike at both the consumer and the “products.”

Also, we can give all the money to the slaves for food, clothes and other such things.

Miyamoto came back with a group of slaves, and I with a sack of money.

The next step was to reach the closest green circle.

I unrolled the map to get a sense of where I was going. I noticed that all these green circles were pretty close to the markets.

It will take us 20 minutes to get there.

When that thought crossed my mind, I heard the screeching of the rich yelling at people to take those men's heads.

We started to rush the group we have, making sure no one was left behind.

By the time we made it halfway, a mob of mercenaries had caught up to us.

Miyamoto had started to fight off men at the vanguard, and I started to fight off men in the back.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Four shots

Four corpses.

Thirteen rounds left, damn.

The marcs had gained too much ground, so I pulled my blade.

Miyamoto was cutting men down by the masses up front.

The green circle was only five minutes away now, made me yell at the slave to keep going.

I hurled the bag of cash at them, telling them to take it and run.

"If you stay you'll all be slain.

You must leave now - you have no choice.

Take the servants and ride west.

Keep the child close to your chest.

When the American troops withdraw.

Let Zapata take the rest." from Veracruz by Warren Zevon

Miyamoto and I got pushed back-to-back with each other.

It seemed we would have to fight over a hundred men at one point.

Miyamoto passed me his wakizashi so I could cut down men faster, so they wouldn’t overrun us through sheer abundance.

Miyamoto was able to cut down the man in front of him as his blade sharpened after every death.

My knife and wakizashi weren’t doing as well.

The shorter range of my blades made me dodge blade after blade.

Range doesn’t matter if I’m able to cut their throats before they couldn’t even nick me.

The battle took over five hours.

I'm not sure how either of us survived; I say it only because they were cheap.

I was bleeding all over it; it felt as if I had nicks and cuts covering all over my body.

The two of us dropped down beside each other, sitting back to back.

I opened my flask and took a long swig and then passed it back to Miyamoto.

Bathed in blood and surrounded by the dead, we trudged like corpses down to the O, making sure they had made it.

The only thing we found was some burnt grass and an engraving.

Miyamoto said it looked like a teleportation spell, so we just walked back to camp.

The twilight of night was overhead; the night sky looked down at us with all its stars.

We fell to our knees and lay upon the ground.

"I have only a short time to live, only one death to die, and I will die fighting for this cause." —John Brown